[Sean Donnelly: Hello, is this Miss Sandra?
Mr.
Screwllum mentioned that I could reach out to you for help.]
[Sandra Dorsett: Ah, yes.
This channel isn’t very secure.
Let’s talk in person.
You know where I am, right?]
Sandra was cautious, but only a little.
Still, she had to test him somewhat.
[Sean Donnelly: Well, Mr.
Screwllum only gave me a hint—the Nyorai in Kabuki.]
[Sandra Dorsett: Stop, that’s enough.
I’ve sent you my location.
Come on over.]
Ruan Xian checked the coordinate.
Sure enough, it was the same address as in the game, not too far away.
Opening his wardrobe, he put on Bruiser’s ultra-macho outfit: a snake-skin cowboy hat, sports sunglasses, a “Fuck Corps” tee, a punk stand-collar jacket, aggressive street trousers, and white street sneakers.
Size-wise, it fit reasonably well, though he didn’t exactly look like a law-abiding citizen.
Not that it mattered; Ruan Xian wasn’t a saint anyway.
He grabbed the keys to Bruiser’s motorcycle and grabbed a handgun—a Unity pistol for self-defense.
As he walked downstairs, he took a moment to feel grateful for the Scavengers’ selflessness.
It was an American tradition, after all.
Once he wiped out the Scavengers in Night City for good, he’d be sure to establish a Thanksgiving holiday in their honor.
Amen.
—Press F to Skip Travel—
“Nyorai Motel.
This is it.” Ruan Xian parked the motorcycle right beneath Sandra’s building and grabbed a bowl of synthetic beef noodles from a small diner near the entrance for breakfast.
Synthetic beef tasted like shredded spicy strips pressed together with beef tallow, seasoned with an accidental bowlful of Guangdong-style scallion oil.
Fortunately, the noodles themselves weren’t bad, making the meal barely edible overall.
Sandra lived on the fifth floor of the apartment building.
In the game, she had installed an automated turret in her home.
However, smart-link target-lock weapons posed zero threat to Ruan Xian; since his data profile couldn’t be targeted, she could only rely on manual aiming.
“Knock, knock, knock.
Miss Sandra, I’m Sean Donnelly.
Are you home?” Ruan Xian knocked politely on the door and asked.
Ruan Xian stepped inside and immediately recognized the marks of wealth.
The decor, ornaments, exquisite sofa, and ceiling-mounted automated turret all testified to the owner’s deep pockets.
“Make yourself at home.
I have a few things to wrap up, give me just a moment.” Sandra was furiously typing away at her desktop terminal.
Since she was receiving a guest, she hadn’t submerged into her netrunner chair inside her panic room.
Ruan Xian didn’t stand on ceremony either.
He poured himself a cup using the apartment’s automated coffee maker, sat down on the couch, and turned on the TV.
“News 54 reporting.
Recently, the Little China serial disappearance and murder cases have finally been solved.
The perpetrators were the Ito brothers residing at 221 Baker Road.
First, let us congratulate the residents of Little China, who no longer need to live in fear.
However, we must question the local NCPD.
The Ito brothers lived at 221 Baker Road for nearly three years, during which they murdered enough people to fill an entire room.
Yet over all these years, the NCPD never suspected a thing.
The exposure of this horrific case was unexpectedly brought to light by an Arasaka ninja seeking justice.
Armed with a Tamayura, the ninja wiped out the culprits and rescued a doll, finally bringing the truth to light.
The NCPD’s corruption and incompetence have once again sunk to a new low.
At the same time, we must raise questions regarding Arasaka: deploying ninjas to carry out vigilante executions while bypassing the NCPD—is this not a total disregard for the law?
Arasaka’s reckless use of force and arbitrary slaughter…”
“Ha, another classic dog-eat-dog show.
Militech accusing Arasaka of vigilante execution—what a joke.” Sandra finally finished up her business, came over, flopped onto the sofa, and tossed out her sharp critique of the news.
“Night City…
Outsiders call it the City of Dreams, the City of Freedom, yet the crime here is appalling.
It’s truly terrifying.” Ruan Xian pretended to be struck by how the local NCPD could turn a blind eye to someone killing people in one place for three years straight.
Such a state of public safety was mind-boggling.
“Get used to it.
People in Night City are proud of their freedom—including the freedom to kill with guns and the freedom to get shot.
Alright, forget the boring news.
Screwllum said I should help you, and you could help me too.
I didn’t quite get what he meant.
Mind explaining?” Sandra had long grown accustomed to investigating the truth herself and held nothing but contempt for news reports.
“Sure thing, Miss Sandra.
‘Project Carpe Diem’—does that ring a bell?” Ruan Xian immediately dove into the narrative he had crafted by piecing together game lore.
“Sounds like you’ve stumbled onto something too.
Give me a second.” A blue light flickered in Sandra’s eyes.
The automated ceiling turret lowered and locked onto the front door, the windows closed automatically, and the blinds locked tight.
Simultaneously, Ruan Xian noticed in cyberspace that a portion of the apartment’s data stream was hidden, looping fixed dummy data packets to disguise its activity. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
“We’re secure now.
Speak.
What did you find out?” Sandra picked up the coffee cup, drained it in one gulp, and prepared to take notes.
“Ma’am, I think that cup was mine.” Ruan Xian watched helplessly as his coffee vanished, though technically it was her machine anyway.
“Project Carpe Diem is a technology researched and deployed by Night Corp.
It can completely alter a person by rewriting their subconscious mind.
And it operates with extreme subtlety, drawing virtually no suspicion while being ridiculously effective.
It can turn a calm, wise individual into a hot-headed, volatile mess, or even control a person’s actions directly.”
“Holy shit.” Though Sandra had guessed it would be big news, she hadn’t expected something of this magnitude.
“Night Corp is researching brainwashing, and the motherfuckers actually succeeded?!
Do you have evidence?”
“I do, but it isn’t concrete proof.
It probably won’t be enough to make everyone believe Night Corp is pulling off something this massive.” Ruan Xian prepared to lay down the melodrama, letting this naive Night City idealist taste a bit of bittersweet tragedy.
“Tell me about it.
Something that lacks weight in your hands might carry plenty of weight in someone else’s.” Sandra hadn’t almost lost her kidney to the Scavengers yet, so she was still in her ‘I’m invincible and naive’ phase.
“It’s a messed-up story.
The kind of story that happens in every corner of this world, over and over again.”
“Have you ever had a friend like that?
Someone who shared your ideals, shared your vision.
You were ready to pull off something that would shock the world together, and you were dead certain you’d lay down your life for each other.” Ruan Xian began getting into character.
To deceive others, one had to deceive oneself first.
“I do.
Forget dying for them—I’d gladly bankrupt myself for my friend.” Speaking of her friend, Sandra’s eyes softened noticeably.
*Finding someone in Night City willing to go broke for you?
Must be a damn good friend,* Ruan Xian thought.
Ruan Xian continued, “In that case, maybe you’ll understand me better.
He and I grew up in the same compound.
Our parents were good friends.
That kid was sharp as a tack from day one, while I had all the brute strength.
The two of us ruled the yard together.
Those were good times.”
“Pity the world doesn’t stay kind.
When we were six, our parents died together.
The corporation didn’t say a word; they just reclaimed our house in the compound, shoved two cans of ashes into our hands, and kicked us out onto the street.”
“What a goddamn world.” Sandra sighed softly.
But what could anyone do?
That was cyberpunk for you—every corporation operated the exact same way.